Brotherly Visions
by GeminiOutsider
Summary: PG-13 for language. Matt is the only one who knows Jeff's secret, but now neither know what's going on.


**__**

BROTHERLY VISIONS

I was beginning to see that this was getting us nowhere.

"And you're sure you don't know?" I asked again, hoping to jog some memory.

"Dammit, Matt, I've told you ten times! I don't know what's going to happen!" Jeff exploded. He looked at me, and I could see the fatigue in his bright hazel eyes. I could also see his fear.

This wasn't the first time Jeff had had a premonition. It was, however, the first time I'd seen him so scared. No...wait...I take that back. He reacted like this when mom died. "It's okay, Jeff. I'm sorry I'm pushing so hard."

Jeff sighed lightly, and pulled his purple/blue/green hair back away from his face. "No, it's alright," he responded slowly, his normally cheerful drawl sounding tired and hauntingly full of worry, "I know why you push. I just don't understand why I don't know what's going to happen. I normally know."

I reached out and gave my younger brother's shoulder a squeeze, and remembered the first time he'd had a premonition. It was actually pretty funny. He started telling me that he'd seen me falling off my bike and twisting my ankle, and said that it was going to happen that afternoon. I laughed at him, and said it was impossible, but later that day...WHAM! Down I went. I never doubted him again.

"Dude, you know what you need?" I asked him, trying not to let my own fear show in my voice.

He gave me this look he gets when he doesn't know whether to trust someone or not. He uses it a lot during TV tapings. "What?" he asked cautiously.

"Food and sleep."

"Nice observation," he dead panned, "Sleep might be a possibility. If I had any appetite at all, food would be a priority." That's one of the things I love the most about my brother. His quick, dry, and sarcastic sense of humor.

I mock-glared at him. "Go to bed, smart ass."

Jeff stood up, and threw a pillow at me. "Yes sir!" he exclaimed as he started to leave my hotel room to go back to his own next door. On the way out the door, he called "Night, Matt."

"G'night, Jeff," I answered as he closed the door.

I laid back on the bed and thought back to some of the other times we had sat like that; sitting across from each other, discussing a premonition he'd had a few minutes ago. The first time, when I fell off the bike, had happened when he was five, and I was eight.

I'm the only one who knows. Mom never had a chance to find out, and Dad doesn't believe in things like this, so we'd never told him. It's our little secret. Only us two Hardy kids know. Well, I guess now I should say Hardy Boyz.

I remember one episode very vividly. I was eleven, and we had separate rooms at the time. I was getting ready for bed one night, when my eight year old little brother came into my room and closed the door behind him. He sat down on the bed and looked at me. He was ready to cry.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I sat down next to him, "Did you have another one of those dream thingies?" I hadn't quite done my research yet.

All he did was nod. He looked me in my eyes and said four words that will haunt me for the rest of my life: "Matt, mom's gonna die."

My eyes filled. This wasn't happening. "What?"

"She's gonna get sick," he continued before bursting into tears. I gave him a hug, and let him cry into my shirt as I shed tears of my own.

After a few days, it seemed Jeff had all but forgotten his vision. But I didn't, and when she fell sick, I couldn't even talk to my brother. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that it had happened because he had seen it, and not the other way around. I figured out I was wrong eventually, but I realized it just in time to hear something else I didn't want to hear.

I was twelve, and he was nine. He came to my room, but only stood in the doorway. He looked at me sadly and said "Tomorrow. She's going to die tomorrow." Then he left, and I heard the door to his room slam shut.

That was how we were able to be in the room when she passed. We already knew it was coming.

~*~*~

I blinked back tears and fast-forwarded a few years. To 1999, to be exact. We'd only been in the WWF for a short time, so I definitely wasn't expecting this one. Jeff woke me up at 4am one morning, yelling "They're going to give us the titles! They're going to give us the titles!"

"Huh?" I replied, still half asleep.

Jeff laughed at my reaction. "Matthew Moore Hardy, tonight you will cement your place in WWF history."

I looked at him with interest. "Oh really, Jeffery Nero Hardy. Do tell."

He grinned the brightest grin I think he's ever had. "Tonight, you and I are going to beat the Acolytes."

"But they're the...oh my God!" I shouted, finally comprehending what he was telling me.

That night, when we "beat" the Acolytes for the WWF Tag Team Championship, it meant even more to me, because I found out about it from my brother.

~*~*~

As I reminisced, I drifted off into dreamland. I awoke early the next morning to the sound of frantic pounding on my door. I got up and opened it to find Jeff, drenched in sweat and shivering despite the sixty-five degree weather.

"What's wrong?" I asked as he came in and collapsed into an armchair.

"Tonight. Whatever the fuck is going to happen, it's going to happen tonight."

I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Oh shit," I responded, slightly stunned. "And we don't know what or to whom?"

"Not a clue," he answered nervously.

I looked at my brother, the worry visibly plastered on both of our faces. Something horrible was going to happen, and we didn't know how to avoid it, or how to handle it.

~*~*~

Later that day we were hanging out in one of the dressing rooms at Madison Square Garden before a taping of Smackdown. Jeff and I were both really down, and must have been about as entertaining to our friends Adam and Jason as paint drying.

As if echoing my thoughts, Adam chirped "What's with you two today? You have all the energy of a pair of turtles."

"Or two wet mops," Jay added.

Jeff thought for a second. "Sorry guys. Today is the anniversary of our mother's death. We always get a little like this."

-'_What???_'- I thought wildly before remembering the date. Jeff was right. I had been so concerned about his vision the night before, that I had totally forgotten. This was getting weirder by the minute.

Adam swallowed. He knew that we still had a hard time occasionally, even all these years later. "Sorry. We'll let you two be. Talk to you tomorrow?"

I smiled half-heartedly. "Sure thing," I responded as the two of them left. Then, I took a deep breath and got ready for my match.

~*~*~

My match was going perfectly. I was scheduled to retain my WWF European Championship against Dean Malenko, and was actually having a pretty good match despite my confused mental state. He hit me with a belly-to-belly suplex off of the ropes, and while I sold the rather painful maneuver for all it was worth, I saw him removing the covers from both the top _and_ middle turnbuckles. -'_That's not supposed to happen,_'- I thought, even more confused, -'_Probably just for show._'- Not very comforting.

Later, towards the end of the match, I scored the Twist of Fate (my modified neck-breaker finishing move) but didn't go for the cover. Perry Saturn, Dean's "running buddy", was attacking my on-screen girlfriend, "Lita". In reality, _Amy_ is an ex of mine, and a really close friend. But it's still a little awkward having to kiss your ex-girlfriend on international television.

Anyway, while I was distracted, Dean grabbed a chair. Jeff ran out to help Lita, and I turned around and realized that I was too close to the exposed turnbuckles to take a proper chair shot. Apparently, Dean didn't notice, and the chair came down on my head so hard that it spun me around, and I blacked out (something that Jeff and I had accepted as part of the job). I came to just in time to feel that same spot on my head crack on the hard metal of the top turnbuckle. I felt the blood start to flow, and then I came down harder, again on that same spot, on the middle turnbuckle. Then, my head crashed into the mat, and I lost consciousness. I had taken a grand total of four major blows to the same spot on my head, and was bleeding profusely.

~*~*~

When I opened my eyes, Jeff was the only one in the room. I could feel the 

bandage on my head, and struggled for a second to remember exactly why I was in the hospital.

Jeff saw me stirring, and let out a huge sigh of relief. Then, he smiled. "Welcome back," he said, a slight hint of exhaustion in his voice.

He walked over to me, and as he came closer I could see traces of tears on his cheeks. He also looked like he hadn't slept in four days.

"How long have I..." I began, trailing off as I began to get a little dizzy.

"About a week and a half. You had a pretty nasty head injury. The boys in the back have been saying it's the strangest accident in WWF history."

"Really?" I asked, trying to remember how many blows my head took.

He nodded. "No one has ever come down from one turnbuckle to the next like that. They're creating a new "Don't try this at home" promo around their footage of that, combined with footage of Droz and Austin's neck injuries."

"Well, at least something somewhat positive might come from this," I said, getting a faint smile to spread across Jeff's face.

It faded quickly, and he looked me in the eyes. "On the way here from MSG, in the ambulance, you...I mean you were..." he started, trailing off as he choked up. I looked at him curiously. He swallowed hard, then continued. "You died, Matt. From blood loss, a major concussion, and mild shock. You were clinically dead for five minutes, and how they brought you back I don't know..." he stammered, choking up again.

I didn't quite register what he was telling me. "I was...dead?"

Jeff nodded, allowing a tear to fall. Then, he leaned down and gave me a hug.

When he stood back up, he looked at me in mock-anger. "You're my only brother. You better not go and die on me." After I laughed a little, he sobered up. "I don't think I could handle things without you."

__

Hmm. That was an interesting point. What would happen to Jeff if something ever happened to me? He's one of the best natural wrestling talents I've ever seen, but would he quit because I wasn't there? Would he be able to recover? Would I be able to look down proud, or worried? Then again, do I really want to know?

A moment of silence passed before I spoke again. "Well, I guess we know what

was going to happen now," I remarked sarcastically.

Jeff grimaced, and pulled a chair over to my bedside. "You know, sometimes I wish I didn't see things before they happen. There are some things that I wish I hadn't known about."

"And other times?"

Jeff stared up at the ceiling, which he does when he's talking about a touchy or sensitive subject. "Other times I guess I welcome them. It's a strange but interesting gift."

I thought about what he said. "It's a double-edged sword then, isn't it?"

Jeff looked down at me. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is."

"I'm glad you get them," I quipped, to which I received a look of disbelief. "I mean, your visions have prepared us for some of the hardest things we've ever been through, as well as leading us to where we are now in terms of our success."

"True," he replied, again looking at the ceiling.

I grinned. "Besides," I said mischievously, "What else would we have giggled about behind Dad's back?"

Jeff laughed. We talked for another hour or so, and when he left I thought about our relationship. Jeff isn't just my brother, he's my best friend. The ties of blood are strong, but in our case I think the tie of friendship is stronger. And the next time he wakes me up at 4am, I'll still be ready to listen.

**__**

The End 


End file.
